


I Have Shamed Jane Austen

by teacuphuman



Series: 2016 Inception Kink Bingo [3]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Regency, F/M, M/M, Weddings, horrific abuse of historical details
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-07-25 19:49:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7545703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teacuphuman/pseuds/teacuphuman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the Regency AU square on my Inception Kink Bingo card.</p><p>Arthur surveys the destruction of his life.</p><p>"His gaze finds Eames, as it always seems to. In any situation, in any room, since the man first appeared in his life, three weeks ago, Arthur finds Eames."</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Have Shamed Jane Austen

**Author's Note:**

> I know nothing, NOTHING, about the Regency Era, except that King George went mad and threw crazy orgy parties. Those ragers, unfortunately, do not feature in this fic.
> 
> Feel free to read this in an English accent, I know I did. I'm terribly sorry if I've offended anyone's working knowledge of the customs of this time. I did my best.

Arthur’s watching the proceedings with an air of distant horror, frozen in place amidst the carnage of his wedding day. Ariadne’s uncle, Mr. Cavendish, is brandishing his walking stick, it’s silver tip glinting in the streaming sunshine of a rare perfect day as it makes its descent toward Mr. Darsi’s head. Eames grabs the stick, tossing it over his shoulder as he tries to reason with the two men. Arthur’s mother is huddled in the corner behind his cousin, Mal, the both of whom are pretending to be shocked, but who are truly disgustingly amused by this turn of events. Arthur sees the mad glint in Mal’s eyes when Mrs. Canvendish pushes a crystal vase to the ground in an attempt to vent her anger and disappointment. The poor woman can only do so much from her chair.

 

Arthur’s father is calling his name and Arthur turns just in time to see him shove the vicar into the house. He won’t be needed, after all. Not now that Arthur’s bride has arrived, already wed. 

 

“Arthur! Arthur, you must do something!” His father says, and of course he must. It always falls to Arthur to pick up the pieces, doesn’t it? To calm everyone down, to settle them in their places. To restore their picture perfect world to how it ought to be. 

 

His gaze finds Eames, as it always seems to. In any situation, in any room, since the man first appeared in his life, three weeks ago, Arthur finds Eames. He’s positioned between Mr. Cavendish and Mr. Darsi, his suit torn and hair mussed. A thrill goes through Arthur as a vision springs to mind. One of Eames, relaxed and smiling among the bedclothes, staring up at Arthur and looking just as disheveled. 

 

Yusuf’s voice rings out, deep and clear, and the room falls silent. 

 

“Everyone calm down! I know you’re upset, but must we resort to violence?” Ariadne clings to his arm, defiant and bright, even in the middle of chaos. 

 

“Damn right we do!” Mr. Cavendish shouts. “You kidnapped my niece!”

 

“Uncle, he did no such thing,” Eames has his hands up in surrender. “Ari loves him. It’s done now, we must move on.”

 

“Ariadne loves Arthur!” Mrs. Cavendish says, knocking an ashtray to the floor. Out of the corner of his eye, Arthur sees Mal stifle a giggle.

 

“No, Auntie, I don’t. Arthur has been very good to me, but I love Yusuf.” Ari says, holding tight to her new groom.

 

“What kind of a name is Yusuf?” Asks Mrs. Lottom, and Arthur wonders what the old crone is still doing here. All the other guests were decent enough to leave when it seemed clear that Arthur was being left at the alter.

 

“It’s Arabic, Ms. Lottom.” Yusuf tells her gently. Clearly he’s never had the pleasure of Ms. Lottom’s company.

 

“Now see here-” Mr. Cavendish starts.

 

“Arabic?” Ms. Lottom interrupts loudly. “I traveled to Egypt with my father when I was a girl, took an Arabic lover for a time. Nearly run me aground, that man did! Had a lovely c-”

 

“Thank you, Ms. Lottom!” Arthur’s father shouts, a blush staining his cheeks.

 

Eames presses his lips together, but he can’t stop a high-pitched noise from escaping his throat. Arthur longs to join in his good humour, but his entire life is in shambles at his feet and he’s finding it hard to see the silver lining.

 

“I hate to disappoint you, Uncle, but the only opinion I care about at the moment is Arthur’s.” Ari leaves Yusuf’s side and takes Arthur’s hand.

 

“I’ve done you a wrong, my friend, and I am sorry. I found in the end I could not go against my conscience and marry you. To do that would have made us both miserable.”

 

Arthur looks from their joined hands to Ari’s serious face. “We might have been happy.”

 

“Perhaps,” Ari smiles, her eyes drifting over to her new husband, then to her brother. “Before.”

 

Arthur draws in a shaky breath. “Does he make you happy?”

 

Ari beams, squeezing his hand tightly. “Happier than is decent.”

 

“Then I forgive you,” Arthur tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear before turning to shake Yusuf’s hand. “You will never be bored.”

 

Yusuf laughs, pulling him into a hug and speaking lowly into Arthur’s ear. “Neither will you, if you follow your heart.”

 

Arthur shivers at the possibility.

 

“This means nothing! I have not given my consent!” Mr. Cavendish stomps his foot and Arthur hears Mal snort.

 

“I’m sorry uncle, but it was never your to give,” Eames takes the old man’s arm, guiding him none too gently to the chair beside his wife. “Ariadne’s well being is in my hands, not yours. You have been very good to us, in your own way, but I’m afraid the time has come for us to live our own lives. We were but goslings when you took us in. Lost and shivering from the cold left behind in the wake of our parent’s death. You warmed us, fed us-”

 

“Eames.” Arthur grinds out.

 

“Ever the rain cloud on my sunny day, Arthur.” Eames winks, flashing a smile.

 

“I’m afraid Mr. Eames is correct. He is Ariadne’s legal guardian, and as such, has the power to grant permission for this marriage to stand,” Arthur’s father says, laying a hand on Ari’s shoulder. “Though, I shall say that we are deeply saddened at the loss of you as a daughter, my dear.”

 

Eames claps his hands together. “Excellent, the magistrate has spoken! Ariadne and Yusuf are married, I bless this union, where’s the cake?”

 

“I’m afraid it was trampled in the scuffle.” Arthur mother waves her hand toward the opposite side of the veranda, where a bronze urn sits crudely in the middle of the ruined cake.

 

“Auntie,” Eames says in wonder. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

 

Mrs. Cavendish harrumphs, tossing her head. 

 

“What now?” Mal asks.

 

“Now we return to our lives, I suppose.” Arthur’s father answers, collecting his wife from her corner.

 

Arthur thinks about all the years he’s spent in his town, waiting for something to happen to him. Waiting for his life to start. Then Ari arrived and she was brilliant, and daring, and not at all like people thought she should be. He can see clearly enough to admit she was his first love, but that was before he truly understood what love could be. Their engagement called forth Eames, her brother, and his beauty and danger shot through Arthur before they’d even spoken. Within the week Arthur found himself pressed up against the stable wall, Eames’ hand tight around him, his lips mumbling praise against his collar until Arthur spilled, hot and thick over Eames’ knuckles. Later, when the fever of their union had passed and Eames took Arthur to his bed, turning him frantic and magnificent in turn, Arthur found what he’d been searching for all those years. Something inside him snaps. 

 

“No.” His voice booms in the quiet room, stilling its occupants.

 

“No?” His father says, trading a frown with his wife.

 

“I cannot go back to how things were. I will not.”

 

“Arthur, I understand that you’re upset, but-”

 

“I’m not. Honestly, Father, I am overjoyed. I believe Aridane has saved us both from an injustice and I will be eternally grateful.” He nods to Ari, who beams back at him.

 

“What will you do, then?” His mother asks.

 

“I will go to London,” he looks to Eames, terrified, but unwilling to live with regrets. “Mr. Eames has offered me a position with his company. If the offer still stands, though I am no longer to be your brother, I will accept.”

 

Eames stares coolly back at him. Before, when they believed Ari to be in love with Arthur, they decided their happiness was not to be placed above hers. Arthur could not betray his promise to her, and Eames refused to break his sister’s heart. But now, now that Ari is happy and married, and Arthur is free, he dares to think back to all the promises he and Eames made to each other in the dark. Promises of being partners, in business and in life. Of escaping to London to be together, of retreating to their summer home when the city grew to be too much. Most of all, of carving out a place for themselves where they could be free. Arthur dares to hope Eames meant all the things he said when he thought there was no future for them.

 

A smile, bright as the sun, spreads across Eames’ face. He extends his hands and crosses the veranda, resting his palms on either side of Arthur’s neck. “It would be my honour to have you, Arthur.”

 

They stay like that, locked in each other’s gaze while the others shuffle back into the house.

 

“I’m not a rain cloud.” Arthur says stubbornly, tugging at the hem of Eames’ coat.

 

Eames is still smiling, moisture gathering in his eyes. “No, darling. You are my rainbow after the storm.” 

 

Mal’s husband Dom comes running across the lawn, his panting and cursing drawing their attention.

 

“Sorry I’m late!” He says, bending at the waist and gulping air. “Did I miss the wedding?”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Quadrille](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10717617) by [dasyatidae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dasyatidae/pseuds/dasyatidae)




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